“Fine.” It’s not entirely true. I’ stared at the ceiling for hours last night, questioning every life decision that led me to this point. Including my birth. “The guest bed is nice.”
He nods, taking a sip of his hot coffee. We haven’t discussed sleeping arrangements beyond the immediate need for separate spaces while we adjust. One miracle at a time. We agreed on having my clothes and stuff in his bedroom, in case Livy’s mom or CPS showed up unexpectedly.
“Livy,” he says, turning to his daughter. “Jenna and I want to talk to you about something.”
She looks up, her cheeks full as if she has just stuffed five bites into her mouth. At the same time. “Is it about the wedding? I know you got married. You told me yesterday when we were carrying all those boxes.”
“Right,” I say, surprised at her directness. “But we wanted to make sure you understand what that means.”
She considers this, head tilted. “It means Jenna lives here now. With us. Forever.”
Colton moves to sit beside her at the island. “That’s right, baby. Jenna’s part of our family now.”
“So, you’re like… my stepmom?” she asks, testing the word carefully.
The air shifts.
Too fast.
Everything about this is too fast.Foreverstill echoes somewhere in my head, heavy and wrong and necessary all at once. We agreed on this. Weneedthis. For her. For the court. For Colton’s and my career. For everything that matters.
“Yes,” I manage, my voice quieter than I intend. “Is that okay?”
Her face lights up instantly. “Of course! I knew you were Daddy’s girlfriend at the fun park,” she says proudly. “That’s why I thought you needed a ring.” She beams at Colton. “Good job, Dad. Now I think we need to buy more Labubus.”
He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s not how this works, smarty pants. And you definitely don’t need more of those stuffed bears.”
“Everyone needs more Labubus,” she argues, completely unfazed. Then her eyes narrow slightly at us. “But why don’t you ever sleep in the same room?”
“Your father snores,” I blurt out.
“And why don’t you ever kiss?”
What the—is this kid working as a secret detective?
“What?” Colton nearly chokes on his coffee.
“Married people kiss,” she says simply, like it’s the most obvious fact in the world.
My heart stutters.
“We do kiss,” I say quickly, and immediately regret how unconvincing I sound.
Colton clears his throat. “Yeah. All the time. We can’t stop. Just… not in front of you.”
“In fairytales they always kiss, and kids do watch fairytales,” she counters.
Of course, they do.
I roll my eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. We can’t have her telling people wedon’tkiss. That would ruin everything.
And before I can overthink it, I step closer to Colton.
He doesn’t move. I reach up, press a quick kiss to his… cheek—soft, fleeting, safe.
Except it doesn’t feel safe.
His skin is warm under my lips. Too warm. And fuuuck… he smells so good. I could kiss his neck, his body, his?—
